John's Shoes
by Madam Callisto
Summary: "If John had walked in carrying a large sign complete with graphics describing his sexual exploits of the previous night in graphic detail, it really wouldn't have told Sherlock anything he couldn't gather from looking the man once over."


If John had walked in carrying a large sign complete with graphics describing his sexual exploits of the previous night in graphic detail, it really wouldn't have told Sherlock anything he couldn't gather from looking the man once over. Honestly, it was writing all over his face. And his collar. In copper lipstick.

And people were actually _surprised_ at his deductions...

"Morning, Sherlock." John practically sang as he pulled of his coat. Sherlock acknowledged him with a slight nod and turned back the violin that sat on his lap, pulling nonchalantly at the strings.

"A good night I take it, John." Sherlock said. John stopped for a moment in his tracks, clearly wondering exactly how much his seemingly inconspicuous look revealed about his last night's escapades. It revealed everything of course.

"Uh, yes. Very." He said with an uncomfortable nod.

"Good. I would hope that it was worth missing last night's arrest." There was a slight bitter edge to his voice.

"Oh, I'm assuming it went well then?"

"Yes, it did. Very well. Very _uneventful_ in fact." Lestrade and Donovan had been there for once, so things had ended without incident. No high stakes games. No life or death choices. Just an arrest. He'd been excited of nothing.

"Good then. Good." John nodded again. Sherlock shifted in his chair, slinging his legs across the arms of his chair. He looked up from his violin for a moment and eyed John up and down, taking note of the limp he was trying to conceal. Last night had certainly been interesting as today, his limp seemed slightly more than psychosomatic. Sherlock looked past it and at his shoes making a slight scoffing sound as he noticed something unseen to John that seemed to please him in some way.

"Didn't even bothering buying her dinner, John?" John, who had been standing uncomfortably still during the duration of the conversation, followed Sherlock line of sight to his shoes.

"Really? My shoes?" He asked with an awkward smile.

"Of course."

"What are my laces tied in a way that suggest I didn't eat last night?"

"It's all in the loops." There a more cheerful tone to his voice now-if a more mocking one. John hoped it meant he'd been forgiven for abandoning him last night, but the slightly sinister expression forming on Sherlock's face discouraged any chance of that.

"Should I be worried?"

"Not at all. Enjoy your date tonight with...Janet?" John mumbled something, his ears turning slightly pink. "Ah, your guys broke up, right? This is a new one."

"Yeah, and things are going pretty well actually."

"I'm assuming that's why I've yet to meet her?"

"I wasn-"

"No need to explain yourself I completely understand."

"Oh, do you?" John said nervously.

"Of course."

John ran his hand across the back of neck. Rather than dwell on it, he decided to take Sherlock's maturity at face value. "Thanks then."

"You're welcome." Sherlock said curtly. With that he lifted his violin onto his shoulder and began to play. John took it as him telling him he was tired of the conversation and headed out towards his room. The smell of the girl's flowery soap he'd used early that morning followed him out. As he left a slight smile came over Sherlock's lips.

As of late John had been frequently seeing this new girl, whatever her name was, and leaving Sherlock to find other things to talk aloud to. He'd tried Mrs. Hudson but her tendency to gasps and comment on 'how horrid' a case might be was very distracting. Any attempts he made to work out his process out loud in front of the detective inspectors usually lead to uncomfortable silences and Donovan murmuring 'freak' loudly under her breath. It wasn't very good for the thought process.

But none of that particularly mattered since John would be back and focused on the cases again in a matter of two, maybe three dates at most.

It was all in the shoe laces.


End file.
